Restraint
by Petchricor
Summary: Rocket needs the team's help removing something


**This was supposed to be another short drabble but I got just a tad carried away. Whoops**

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Rocket got overloaded with social interaction pretty easily. At least, when it was more than just the team he did. He tended to hide away in some hidden corner of the ship for awhile after their outings on planets. The more crowded the area they'd been in, the longer he stayed hidden away. The first few times they had been, admittedly, a little worried about him. But now it was just a regular pattern that they shrugged off. So when he'd disappeared for over five hours after their last stop, no one batted an eye.

Peter was playing with his rubik cube up on the flight deck, leaning back in his pilot's chair. He could hear Drax and Gamora playing some kind of game in the background, muttering bits of conversation here and there between the silence. Peter felt uneasy without his music playing but with Groot taking a nap he knew it was better to keep it quiet. He heard soft footsteps on the stairs and felt a small hand pat his arm.

"Yeah what's up?" Peter said, not looking over. Another pat, firmer and more insistent. Peter frowned a bit and looked over. The cube dropped from his hands, rolling off the chair and to the floor. Rocket's face was covered with a metal muzzle that wrapped far too tightly around snout and head. There was blood coating the edges and bits of it were bent and chipped at, claw marks all over it. Oh god he was _crying_. Peter's chest welled up with guilt all of a sudden at the sight.

"Help," Rocket's voice was muffled by the muzzle, his voice cracked from crying. Peter shook himself from his shock and got to his feet, feeling over the muzzle for a latch or anything, _something_ , to get it off. There was nothing. Shit.

"Guys!" Peter called, gathering Rocket up in his arms and carrying him over to the table. Without thinking Drax shoved everything in front of them to the side so Peter could set Rocket in front of them. Their eyes widened, filled with anger and worry at the sight. Gamora reached out to feel it over. "There's no latch or anything to get it off with." Rocket whined in pain and pawed at it, ears leaning further back against his skull. "Drax, think you can pull it off?"

"I will try." Drax grabbed at the pieces attaching the muzzle to Rocket's face and pulled with all his might. The metal creaked but didn't give and Drax growled in frustration. Peter reached out and grabbed ahold, pulling as hard as he could. Gamora quickly joined in and between the three of them they managed to pull it apart enough to slip it off Rocket's face.

"Oh man," Peter breathed, wincing in sympathy at the marks it had left on the others face and snout. He walked off to get a wet cloth to clean the wounds, watching from the corner of his eye as Drax gently pet his ears and Gamora rubbed the irritated areas. He hurried back over. "This'll sting a little but I need to clean it." Rocket just nodded, letting Peter pat the area down with the wet cloth without much hassle.

"Why didn't you come to us first?" Gamora asked, her voice more gentle than any of them had ever heard before. Rocket whined and closed his eyes, clearly trying not to cry.

"Hey hey, easy buddy," Peter said gently. His hand cupped the others snout, now finished with cleaning. He was surprised when Rocket pressed into the touch with a quiet whine.

"Didn't wanna bother ya," Rocket muttered. Peter scowled.

"Rocket, you were in _pain_ ," Gamora said, her tone almost scolding. "We wanted to help you, it was not bothersome."

"She's right," Peter agreed. "We're your family now, you don't have to do this all alone anymore, man." Drax shared the sentiment by patting Rocket's head. "Next time, _please_ , let us help you before it gets so bad." Peter's chest tightened when Rocket starting crying and he instinctively picked him up and held him close. "I've gotchya buddy, take it easy." It felt like an eternity before Rocket stopped crying.

"I don't deserve you guys," Rocket whined, claws clutching Peter's shirt like a lifeline. Peter frowned, smoothing down some of Rocket's fur. "I'm such an asshole, I keep fucking you over and stealin your shit. Why do you put up with me?"

"We already told you, we're your family," Gamora said. "We're not going to abandon you just because you can be a pest sometimes." Peter nodded in agreement, hand still running over Rocket's head. He knew the other wasn't fond of petting but he seemed to be okay with it right now, he even relaxed a little.

"Gamora is right. We're all jackasses, you fit right in," Peter assured him. Rocket didn't protest again, seeming to except his fate as one of them. "C'mon, I wanna get a better look at those wounds." Peter went down the stairs and headed for their tiny medical bey. It wasn't much but it was what they had.

Rocket was silent as Peter inspected the injuries, his expression blank and his eyes sad. Peter sighed and got to work cleaning the wounds properly, sure to be gentle and not cause more pain than the sting of the disinfectant if he could help it. He bandaged them up best he could and gave Rocket a small smile that was not returned. He sighed.

"Rocket," Peter said softly, waiting until the other met his eyes. "A unit for your thoughts?" There was a moment of silence where the other considered this. Rocket sighed and looked away.

"It made me feel like, an animal," Rocket muttered. "They tried to leash me up like one. I just, I'm _not_ an animal, I'm a person." He looked at Peter again, his eyes full of fear and the slightest bit of hope those that did this to him hadn't quite snuffed out. "Right?"

"Right," Peter said without hesitation. He put a hand on Rocket's shoulder. "You're one of us, a Guardian. You're not a pet or a beast or a monster or _anything_ like that. You're part of our family, end of story." Peter felt his chest warm happily when Rocket gave him a tiny smile.

"You said something about a unit for my thoughts?"

"Rocket!"

"I'm kidding! Mostly."

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 **That's a wrap!**

 **Thanks for reading, please review, be good and if you can't be good dont get caught**


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